


finding the exit

by AshDoesFandom



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Lower Decks (Cartoon)
Genre: Banter, Can be read as gen, Canon Compliant, Concussions, Everyone Is Gay, Excessive Swearing, Existentialism, F/F, F/M, Flirting, Friendship, I cannot tag, M/M, Mostly Dialogue, Oneshot, Philosphy, Polyandry, Pre-Poly, Pre-Relationship, Stranded, Swearing, The Warp Core Four, This Is Why We Can't Have Nice Things, Tumblr Prompt, after boimler comes back, beta read by the amazing loo, everyone's gay for each other okay, implied ot4 - Freeform, vaguely season 2
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-24
Updated: 2020-10-24
Packaged: 2021-03-08 18:40:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,194
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27171211
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AshDoesFandom/pseuds/AshDoesFandom
Summary: “I’m going to die in the middle of uncharted space with the dumbest people in the galaxy,” Boimler presses his face into Rutherford’s shoulder. There’s not much room in the tiny, tiny escape pod, plus his friend’s shoulder makes for a good pillow.“Aw, come on, we aren’t dying.”“I see you’re not disputing the dumbest people comment.”“Shut the fuck up.”
Relationships: Brad Boimler/Beckett Mariner, Brad Boimler/Beckett Mariner/D'Vana Tendi/Sam Rutherford
Comments: 13
Kudos: 51





	finding the exit

**Author's Note:**

> [Tumblr Prompt:](https://asexualmorticia.tumblr.com/post/632825160685240320/lower-decks-prompt-the-warp-core-four-mariner) _The Warp Core Four (Mariner, Tendi, Boimler, and Rutherford) are stuck adrift in a shuttle waiting for rescue, and do their best to entertain themselves while they pass the time ___

Boimler wakes up on Rutherford’s shoulder. The two are flopped out on the floor, Rutherford seemingly conscious, but quiet. Tendi and Mariner are leaning against the wall of the tiny shuttle, legs intertwined. Every once in a while, they pass a bottle of unknown liquid back and forth. 

“This is fucking bullshit,” Rutherford finally says, staring blankly up at the ceiling from his reclining position on the floor.

Mariner lets out a high-pitched giggle. “Ruzzer-Rud- _Rutherford_ said-he fucking said _bullshit_ ,” she wheezes. 

“He also said fuck,” Tendi agrees, taking another swig of her drink. 

“ _Tendi said **fuck**_ -”

“I’m going to die in the middle of uncharted space with the dumbest people in the galaxy,” Boimler presses his face into Rutherford’s shoulder. There’s not much room in the tiny, tiny escape pod, plus his friend’s shoulder makes for a good pillow. 

“Aw, come on, we aren’t dying.”

“I see you’re not disputing the dumbest people comment.”

“Shut the fuck up.” 

“In the time that I was unconscious, you managed to fuck up Rutherford’s implant—why does he have a _swearing mode_ , by the way?—find alcohol _and_ get piss drunk. Where did you even get that? We’re in an escape pod,” he sighs, gesturing toward the suspicious brown tinted liquid.

“Pffft, wasn’t on the escape pod,” Mariner grins. 

Tendi frowns. “Where was it-”

“ _Please do not answer that_.” 

“Laaaaame,” Mariner boos, grabbing the bottle from Tendi and taking a gulp. “You should try some, get buzzed up. Might loosen that stick up your ass.” 

“He has a concussion, dumbass,” Rutherford says, gently patting and Boimler’s head. “Your hair’s soft,” he adds. 

“ _RUTHERFORD SAID DUMBASS-”_

 _“_ I KNOW HOW TO MOTHERFUCKING SWEAR MARINER-”

“ **RUTHERFORD SAID MOTHERFUCK- _”_**

Boimler sits up, jerking away. “Can you guys pipe down?! _Please_?” He presses his palms into his eyelids. “Or just eject me into space already?” He drops his hands. “Also, again _why would you get drunk_ we are stranded in _uncharted space_ -”

“Don’t worry about it, Boims, I already contacted the Captain. She’s sending us a sweet, sweet ride that’ll be here in a few minutes. We just gotta hang tight and keep you awake.” 

“Kinky,” Tendi says, giving them a thumbs up. 

Boimler groans, burying his face in Rutherford’s shoulder again. “God, just let me die.” 

“No can do, Princess.”

“You’re too fucking pretty to die,” Rutherford agrees. 

Mariner spits out her drink. “Wait _what_.” 

Tendi nods, whipping Mariner’s spit off her cheek. “He is small and soft and _baby_.” 

“ _Wait what_ -” Boimler lifts his head off Rutherford’s shoulder again. “I’m not- _shut up_!” 

Mariner wrinkles her nose. “But he’s _Boimler_.” 

“Yeah!” 

“We’re all hot, I don’t know what to tell you,” Tendi sighs, thunking her head back against the wall. 

“You think I’m hot?” Rutherford and Mariner ask in unison. 

Boimler faceplants back into Rutherford’s shoulder. “I’m in hell. I’m in actual hell.” 

“You don’t believe in hell,” Tendi snorts. 

“If I did, this would be it.” 

“Cogito ergo sum,” Rutherford says. “Hell is other people,” Rutherford translates at Tendi’s blank stare. “It’s a concept from that one Terran screenplay about hell that like. Explores ethics and the philosophy of existentialism.” 

“Existentialism is for wimps. Just become a nihilist like the rest of us,” Mariner mutters. 

“First of all, you’re not a nihilist, you’re an absurdist. Second, existentialism isn’t for wimps, it’s a highly intellectual branch of philosophical thinking that stems from-” 

“ _Yawn._ Big words.” 

“At least your implant seems to have reset itself,” Tendi snickers. 

Rutherford tries to glare at her and fails epically. Tendi’s either too cute to be mad at or Boimler’s missing something here.

He’s probably missing something, he decides. The room has started spinning again and that stabbing pain behind his eyes is back. Yay. 

“That’s a misinterpretation anyway,” he says, blinking hard as his vision goes in and out. 

“What?” Rutherford’s voice seems far away. Weird, he’s sitting right next to Boimler. 

“When people say ‘hell is other people’ they usually mean that our interactions with other people are hell, but what Sartre _really_ meant is that we are trapped in other people’s interpretations of us.” 

Mariner blinks. “You’re hurting my brain.” 

“What the fuck does that mean?” Tendi yawns. It’s very cute. 

“It has something to do with choice and creating meaning out of a universe that instrinticly offers none and-” Rutherford pauses. “And my brain hurts too much to explain.”

Mainer raises her bottle in agreement. “It’s up to you, Boims.”

“Do I look like a philosophy major?” He grits his teeth against the red _hot_ behind his eyes. It’s getting worse. 

“You weren’t doing too bad a minute ago.”

“Yeah, because I watched _the fucking play_.” His fingers start tapping against his thigh. 

“Oh my god, you watch old timey philosophical plays?” She gives him a half grin. “Cute.” 

“Told you he was pretty.” Tendi gives him finger guns. 

“Shut the fuck up, pretty and cute aren’t synonyms.” 

“Look, if you would just get over whatever hangup you got with him-” 

“I DON’T HAVE ANY HANGUPS OVER BOIMLER!” 

“Can you guys be quiet for _five minutes_ ,” Boimler hisses, hands over his ears. “I swear to _god_ -”

“ _...Cerritos to Beta 278b, do you copy…_ ” static crackles over the comm, making the four of them wince. 

“Aaaand that’s our cue,” Rutherford says. “Mariner-” 

“On it.” Mariner stands up, suddenly alert. Boimler blinks up at her in surprise. He was certain she was completely inebriated a moment before…

The shuttle _jolts_ , making them all scramble for purchase, and then there’s a soft tingling under Boimler’s skin. 

“Oh great they’re beaming us directly-” Rutherford starts.

The shuttle disappears in a flash of gold and is replaced by a sterile, white room. 

“-there,” he finishes with a relieved grin. “Cool.” 

“Okay, let’s get your dumb, dumb ass to medbay,” Mariner says to Boimler cheerfuly, throwing his arm over her shoulder and dragging him off. He, predictably, trips over his own feet and gets a mouthful of her hair. Rutherford sidles up to his other side and steadies him. 

“Slow down dumbass, he’s _still concussed_.”

“Yeah, that’s why I’m taking him to med- _DID YOU JUST SAY DUMBASS WITHOUT YOUR IMPLANT BEING FUCKED UP?!”_

Boimler groans, dropping his head onto Rutherford’s shoulder. Tendi pats him on the back in consolidation. 

“ _I’m allowed to swear-”_

“OH MY GOD.”

Whether there’s a god in this universe or not, _something_ takes pity on Boimler and lets his vision fade to black.

* * *

Three days later, he’s still on bedrest. Mariner flops down on his bio-bed-breaking like 7 different regulations at once-and pulls out her data padd. 

“I read your dumb play, it was pretty shitty.” 

“Thanks.”

“I did happen to find an old holo recording of it from like. The 21st century? You down?” She waves the padd at him invitingly. 

Boimler sighs. Moves over far enough for her to slide under the thin bed covers with him. “When T’Ana yells at you, I am _not_ taking the blame.” 

“Uh huh.” She props the padd up on her knees and clicks on the video.

Boimler falls asleep about five minutes in, head dropping off on her shoulder. It’s finally quiet.

* * *

**Author's Note:**

> hi come talk to me about lower decks and philosophy on [tumblr](https://asexualmorticia.tumblr.com/)
> 
> The play is called No Exit, for those of you wondering. It's entertaining shit.


End file.
